Venditor
by Avelona-and-Sally
Summary: 'Repeatedly Come to Where I Work and Pick Up an Item, Then Decide They Don't Want It Halfway Through Shopping and Leave It On the Shelf Next to Them No Matter What Aisle They're In' AU. NaruHina.


From his position behind about a hundred and one cans of green beans and pureed corn, Naruto glared at her.

Any moment now. Any moment now, she'd do it.

She blinked suddenly at the box of crackers she'd been staring at, like she'd sensed he was watching her and started to turn - he quickly busied himself with re-arranging the cans, beginning to stack them into a three-sided pyramid and barely managing to keep from dropping one straight onto his fingers.

Once he was sure she wasn't looking at him, he began observing her again.

She was in here once a week, getting all the usual stuff: milk, bread, eggs and a nice assortment of fruits and veggies to balance out the ridiculous amounts of soda she bought - seriously, he shared an apartment with Sakura, who had just about the biggest sweet-tooth he knew, and even she didn't consume that much fizz.

But _every time _this girl was here…

Granted, she wasn't as bad as that one asshole with his hair like a duck's butt feathers who always left his cart _right effing next to _the registers and made all the cashiers antsy, but _still… _He noticed a row of cheese nip boxes all lying flat on their backs and let out a huff of frustration, both with them and _her._

"Hm?" she turned and blinked an inhumanly pale set of eyes at him, tossing dark bangs to make the point that she was acknowledging him. Her lips had been pursed in contemplation - which would she choose to snack on this week, Tomato Basil or Parmesan? - but when she turned to him they parted in inquiry.

"Ah, excuse me," he said with a flash of teeth, even though there was plenty of space between the two of them in the aisle and he wasn't even going over to her side, anyway.

Her lips copied his, "No, you're fine." Surprisingly pretty smile.

Yeah, _he_ was fine, Naruto thought to himself, _he_ wasn't the one who was being spied on by staff because he kept _leaving his creamer in random places around the store._ The frustrating thought hit him just as he was reaching for a box at the way back, and he managed to bang his head exactly at the corner of the shelf above this one. He swore.

"Are you alright?"

The mystery-girl pulled him away from the boxes of crackers to have him face her, hands resting on his shoulders as she tilted her face up to his and examined him carefully. He blinked. Up close like this, her eyes were almost _shining_. Really long eyelashes, too. She could've been a model.

'_Don't think like that! That's the brain damage talking!'_ The pretty face was just a mask for the consumerist void beneath!

"I'm fine," he laughed, "Just a bump."

"You don't _seem_ fine. Here." She lifted something from her cart and pressed it to his forehead; a coolness covered the aching spot.

For a moment he was frozen, just staring down at her and the way she slightly furrowed her brows and bit her lip. It was kinda cute, he thought, the way she seemed to get _this_ concerned over a bump and it was especially cute how she fought to keep whatever it was pressed against his forehead, despite the awkward reach.

...Oh.

He took it from her and kept it pressed to his hairline, grinning. "Thanks! Sorry I'm using your food like this."

"Don't worry about it. You sure you're okay?" This time her smile was brighter, less polite, and all for him.

"Yeah." One hundred percent.

She shifted. "Listen…" Nervously touched her fingers together. "Um. I've, um, seen you around here a few times and I...I wanted to ask, but I've never managed to work up the courage… Do you maybe wanna see a movie or something sometime?"

He blinked. She...she was asking him out? _'The devil has feelings?'_

"Uh, yeah, sure." He'd be lying if he said he didn't think she was good-looking. If only she'd stop leaving her crap everywhere.

"C-cool." She smiled at him again. His heart might've grown three sizes. "Um. My name's Hinata."

"Naruto."

"I - I know." She nodded to his nametag. He felt the urge to hide it next time he saw her and see if she remembered.

"Wait." He pulled a sale label off the shelf and scrawled his number onto the back with the marker he kept in his pocket, then handed it to her. "There. In case you don't manage to catch me at my next shift once you've figured out a good time."

"Okay," she nodded. Rocked backward on her heels so far he thought she'd fall - he leaned forward to grab her just as she stepped onto her toes and, whoops, again his face collided with something it wasn't supposed to, only this time it felt much nicer and tasted like strawberries.

She jolted away from him, covering her lips with shaky fingers. "Ohmigosh! I'm so sorry! I swear, I didn't mean to do that!"

He couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. "Don't sweat it. But try not to base anything off that one time. I swear I'm a much better kisser than that." He winked.

She turned _bright_ red and stuttered out a goodbye, then turned tail and almost sailed down the aisle with her cart, leaving him standing there, unsure whether he should laugh or sigh at the weird turn of events.

At least she hadn't left the -

\- wait.

A blue and white half-pint of cream innocently sat in his palm as if it hadn't known all along that it was the very thing that he was determined _not _to lay eyes on today.

"Hinata, huh?" Naruto muttered as he made his way over to backstock with the carton. He could still taste her chapstick on his lips. That was probably why hers were so soft. Maybe he should get some; his were getting kinda cracked in the cold weather, and if he wanted to make good on that promise about his kissing skills...

"Naruto, you won't _believe_ what happened!"

He blinked at the sudden cloud of pink that appeared in front of him. "Did that guy leave his cart at the register again?" he asked his roommate.

Sakura shimmied with excitement, "Yeah, but, more importantly, his name is Sasuke and _I got his number!"_ She brandished her pale arm for him to see, a string of digits trailing towards her wrist from her elbow.

Sure.

…

…

A/N: ...can you tell i work in retail?


End file.
